


he thinks he's lancelot (but he's more of a sir lamorak)

by smalltonystark



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, NYC's famous Balthazar restaurant as a location and plot point, Possessive Steve Rogers, Tony's Gallery of Evil Exes, mild violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-25
Updated: 2020-06-25
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:07:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24915097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smalltonystark/pseuds/smalltonystark
Summary: Tony knows firsthand that violence isn’t funny. So why oh why does he think that the scene playing out in front of him, Steve and Victor Von Doom in a knock-out, drag-down fist fight, is absolutely hilarious?
Relationships: Background Pepper Potts/Happy Hogan, Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 29
Kudos: 192





	he thinks he's lancelot (but he's more of a sir lamorak)

**Author's Note:**

> I'm back on my bullshit, and by bullshit I mean SteveTony fanfiction. Thank you so much to everyone who's encouraged me, especially han and aisu-hawk from Discord who beta'd this, and natasharxmanov, lakeeiresaltmine, and lovelyirony on Tumblr for cheer-reading this and looking it over. 
> 
> Slight content warning: There is some mild violence in this fic! It's not graphic, hence no graphic violence warning, but there is a punch thrown.

Tony knows firsthand that violence isn’t funny. So why oh why does he think that the scene playing out in front of him, Steve and Victor Von Doom in a knock-out, drag-down fist fight, is absolutely hilarious?

He thinks to himself,  _ I’m being hysterical, aren’t I? _

The Rube Goldberg machine of farce that led to this started six months ago, when the Maria Stark Foundation started planning its annual charity gala. 

***

They’re a month into planning, with the date finalized, when the first cracks start to show. 

“Honeybunch, light of my life, Rhodeybear,  _ please _ be my date to this one. I’ll pay off the brass, I promise your career won’t take a hit if you don’t show up to the Major General’s niece's wedding!” 

Tony Stark never claimed to be above wheedling. And he  _ was  _ wheedling, trying to convince his best friend that walking around a gala with him for hours in uncomfortable shoes would be more fun than getting wasted on someone else’s dollar. 

“Tones, come on, you know I have to. After I refused to invest in his wife’s pyramid scheme, I’m on thin ice as is. It’s all petty military politics, you know, the thing you hate?”

“Who else am I supposed to go with? Pepper? She and Happy are such a cute couple, I can’t break that up. Bruce refuses to go anywhere that requires a suit, Thor and Clint are just… no. That’s not happening. And I’ve used up all of my good favor with Natasha for the month since I asked her to babysit DUM-E last week when I was in Tokyo.”

“There’s someone very conspicuously missing from that list.” And this is why Tony is best friends with Rhodey; it’s like being friends with a keen-eyed lawyer who wants you to confront your personal issues before the court date so you don’t make a fool of yourself. 

“I’m not asking Steve. He gets twitchy at galas when he’s with me.”

“Well your choices are twitchy Steve, a sad Pepper, or an angry Natasha. Take your pick, Anthony.”

Well when you put it like that… 

“Fine, I’ll ask him, but if this goes wrong, I’m blaming you.”

Rhodey snorts at that and says, “What could go wrong? It’s Steve.”

So really, Tony should have known from the start that this plan was cursed.

***

He doesn’t have to approach Steve right  _ now _ , of course, or any time soon, really. He still has about four months of gala work to go through, and because he has a project, it means he can safely put the thought of walking around with Steve on his arm on the backburner. Of course, that doesn’t mean that Steve himself ceases to exist. Oh no, Steve is very much present, and for some reason, he keeps following Tony around everywhere. 

They’re in the grand ballroom that Pepper decided on as the venue for this year’s gala, and it’s all hands on deck as they decide on catering and floral centerpieces for each of the small tables. 

“-and you can tell him that he can go shove his BFA in interior design from U Wisconsin of all places up his ass, if we go with ivory cream for the tablecloths, it’ll clash with the stationary!” The slam of a door and the clack of heels on wood signals that the last of Pepper’s composure has run out. Time for some patented Stark Magic™.

“Back rub?”

Pepper’s shoulders visibly ratchet down by three notches in tension. “Yes, oh my God. Also, call Happy and tell him to come here, I need sympathy.” She slumps into a stray chair, takes her hair out of its tight bun, kicks off her heels, and waits for Tony to start. s, and waiting for Tony to start. 

First, he sends a text to Happy requesting backup. Then, he starts working on getting the knots out of Pepper’s muscles. The second he puts his hands on her shoulders, he’s rewarded with a breathy sigh of relief. Happy comes in, a bottle of water and some Advil in hand, and surprisingly, he brings Steve with him. 

Steve, who is looking anywhere but at Tony and Pepper. 

_ What a weirdo _ , thinks Tony, as he continues working down Pepper’s back until she says “stop,” puts her hair back up, fetches her heels, and asks Happy to take her home. That leaves him and Steve in a room together, with Steve’s neck turning a blotchy red and his body language giving off a strong signal of “I want to be anywhere but here.”

Tony stares at him, watches him fidget, until he cracks.

“So, you and Pepper, huh?” Woah, that’s  _ not _ what Tony expected him to say. 

“Are you kidding? Happy may be one of my best friends, but he wouldn’t hesitate to chokeslam me if I made a move on his fiancee. Especially considering our history.” 

At that, Steve visibly brightens, and  _ oh _ , that’s very, very interesting. 

“Any reason you’re so fascinated with my love life, Mr. Rogers?” Tony moves closer to him, smiling now that he’s got Steve pegged. 

The blotchy red color that was fading from Steve’s neck comes back in full force, spreading to his face, and through the thin white of Steve’s t-shirt, Tony can see it on his shoulders. 

“Nope. No reason. Just asking. You know. As a friend?” Steve looks away from him, then. He truly is an awful, awful liar. Tony is gonna have to train him out of that. Later, though. For now, Tony gets on his tiptoes and kisses Steve on the forehead. Steve, for his part, looks incredibly shocked. 

“You know, this puts a lot of stuff in perspective.”

“Like what?” Aww, that’s adorable, that Steve thought he was being subtle. 

“The following me around. The death stares. The twitchiness at formal events. It makes sense, in hindsight.” 

Steve groans. “God, you’re never gonna let me live any of it down, huh?”

Tony kisses him again, this time on the lips. “Absolutely not. Who do you take me for, a  _ reasonable _ romantic partner?”

***

Life gets a little easier now that he and Steve are-- dating?  _ Eugh _ , Tony thinks to himself,  _ that’s such a juvenile word. Makes me sound like I’m 15 again. _

Semantics aside, it’s so nice having Steve around. They’re both workaholics, but they compliment each other. Steve helps reign in Tony’s frantic energy and eagerness to move on to step eighteen when step five is barely complete, and Tony helps Steve liven up a little after a hard day. 

And hey, it even solves the problem of his date to the gala! Now he can put Steve down as his plus one without feeling awkward about it, or having to worry that Steve secretly doesn’t want to be at the gala with him. 

Really, the only problem seems to be Steve’s little… possessive streak. Tony notices it when they’re out in public and someone else is flirting with him. Two months before the gala, they go out for brunch ( _ I’m turning into a rich housewife _ , is the most coherent thought running through Tony’s head that day), and the waiter keeps circling around to their table. Normally this would be fine, but every interaction starts with “Can I get you anything Mr. Stark?” and ends with “Oh of course, Mr. Stark, you’re one of our most important and valued patrons,” which undoubtedly set off alarm bells in Steve’s head. 

Tony has no intentions of flirting back; the kid is what, 23? It’s cute that he’s trying, really. He plans to sign a napkin with his autograph and maybe let the guy get a picture with him and Captain America, but only  _ after _ he finishes his eggs meurette and pain au chocolat. Steve, however, is far less amused. Over the course of brunch, Steve’s eyes get more and more stormy, his shoulders drawing tight, like they do when he hasn’t gotten to a punching bag in a few days. When their waiter leans over to slide Tony the check, Steve turns the receipt over; when he sees a phone number written on it, he whips his eyes up to where the kid had been, seething in anger. 

After they finish, taking home a bag of pastries for the rest of the Avengers, Tony leads Steve down the street back towards the tower. Steve is clearly still upset, so Tony does what he does best: provokes. 

“Steve. Don’t think I didn’t see how you were behaving.”

Steve sighs, “I’m sorry. It’s embarrassing, and regressive, I know.”

“Are you sorry because I’m calling you on it or are you sorry because you looked like you were going to strangle our poor waiter to death?”

“...”

“That’s what I thought. You’re lucky you’re cute, Rogers. I’m fine with a little bit of the caveman act, but don’t let that go to your head. I’m a big boy, I don’t need you to defend what little honor I have left.”

“I-- It’s not that I’m defending your honor, it’s more like, Lord in heaven this is mortifying, I don’t like people trying to take what’s mine?”

Tony pauses in the middle of the sidewalk, much to the anger of the people walking behind them, and spins around to face Steve. “What’s  _ yours _ ? Excuse me?”

“Tony, come on, I didn’t mean it like that. Ma and I had so little when I was growing up, I needed to grab onto whatever I  _ did _ have and hold onto it for dear life, just to prevent it from being stolen or destroyed.”

Well, fuck, that’s almost a sob story. 

“I’m not gonna lie to you and say that I’m completely fine with that way of thinking,  _ but _ I could be convinced to lean into the whole ‘my boyfriend is a caveman’ thing. Only a little bit.”

That makes Steve grin. “Mmhmm, and what would I need to do to convince you?” He pulls Tony closer to him and steals a kiss. 

Now it’s Tony’s turn to smile,  _ God, what a charmer. It’s a miracle that he hasn’t decided to use his powers for evil. _ “You can start by taking me home, right now, immediately.”

***

One month before the gala, it’s time for invitations to go out, and Tony is frowning at the guest list at the kitchen island. He feels a pair of arms slide around him, and cranes his neck to give Steve a kiss. 

“Hey you, what are you looking at?”

“The guest list. I’m not sure if I want some of these people in the same room together.”

Steve, bless him, doesn’t say anything, just sits down on an adjacent barstool and motions for him to talk through it.

“So most of these people are fine, whatever, we can have five different families with the last name Sullivan because they’ll all introduce each other as the ‘Albany Sullivans’ or the ‘Seattle Sullivans,’ but I’ve highlighted the people that I’m concerned about.”

Tony shows him the list with three three names highlighted. 

_ Sunset Bain _

_ Tiberius Stone _

_ Victor Von Doom _

Steve, of course, only recognizes Von Doom from one of their more recent battles, where he’d sicced an army of robots onto New York. Tony decides to spare him the more graphic details. 

“Ty Stone, old college ex, annoying pest on his good days and a blight on this Earth on his worst. Sunset Bain, another ex, this time right after my parents died, and the fourth worst thing that ever happened to me. Those two in the same room? A nightmare scenario. Literally. I’m pretty sure one of my bad dreams goes like this.”

Steve brushes a strand of hair out of Tony’s face, tilts Tony’s head up so that they’re looking into each other’s eyes. “I’ll protect you.”

Tony bursts into laughter.

“Honey, I’m being serious!” Steve is pouting now, he’s so earnest. Tony thinks,  _ I love him _ , and then right after,  _ it’s way too soon to tell him that _ .

What he ends up saying is, “First of all, that’s very noble of you, my knight in shining armor. Protecting little old me.” He rewards Steve with a peck on the lips, which lessens Steve’s pout to a degree. 

“Second, are we gonna be a ‘honey’ couple? I don’t think I can be the other half of a ‘honey’ couple.”

Steve looks perplexed, then. “I didn’t call you ‘honey,’” he says. 

Tony knows how to settle this. “JARVIS?”

JARVIS replays their conversation, and yep, Steve is on video calling Tony ‘honey.’ Steve puts his head in his hands and groans. “Is this another thing you’re never gonna let me live down?”

Tony pats him on the shoulder sympathetically. “Aw,  _ honey _ , it’s okay. I love you no matter how cheesy you are.”

Steve groans again. 

***

It’s the big night, six months in the planning, and Tony can’t find his  _ goddamn _ cufflinks--

“Looking for these?”

Tony sees the two bits of gold in Steve’s open palm, exhales, and pulls Steve into a deep kiss, losing himself in the moment, if only for a second. He fixes the cufflinks onto the sleeves of his  [ rosewood suit ](https://www.ephapparel.com/product/the-rosewood-suit/) , and looks in the mirror again, smoothing the lines of the jacket down. 

“You look stunning,” Steve says, staring openly at his ass. Steve is dressed to the nines himself, in a deep  [ oxford blue ](https://www.editsuits.com/product/the-oxford-blue-suit/) that brings out his eyes. 

“You’re not so bad yourself, handsome.”

Steve, ever the gentleman, offers his arm, which Tony gladly takes, and the two of them head out into the gala. 

They can’t stay attached at the hip the whole night, as much as they would like to, so they get into a routine, one that Steve went over with him. Captain America isn’t called a ‘master strategist’ for nothing. 

They agreed on each of them starting on opposite ends of the room, moving from person to person, and rendezvousing at the back table to catch a break. After that, they would swap sides, and work their way to the exit, where theoretically, they could leave midway through for what Steve termed “official Avengers team dynamic strengthening exercises,” or in other words, “watching Dr. Phil reruns in the dark and feeding each other ice cream while the team pretends not to notice.”

It’s a perfect plan. So perfect, in fact, that it goes to shit within the first six minutes. 

“Tony, how lovely to see you. It’s been far too long,” croons Sunset Bain. 

Tony had just gotten through talking to the Rochester Clarks (not to be confused with the Baltimore Clarks), and had been going to move towards the New Brunswick Millers before he’d heard her. Now, though?

Now he’s faced with the woman who used him for SI secrets, and she’s pulling out all of her best tricks. Her dress is gorgeous, she’s being incredibly pleasant, and she’s bringing up only their most pleasant of memories while inching closer to him, getting in his personal space and crowding him into a corner. It’s enough to lull Tony into a false sense of security, until he makes eye contact with Steve. Steve who is now halfway done with his route.  _ Focus on the goal, Stark _ , he tells himself. 

“It was lovely seeing you, Ms. Bain, but I have to go. My-” he hesitates for a second, and then decides  _ fuck it, let’s go all out, we  _ are _ a cheesy couple  _ “-sweetheart is waiting for me,” gesturing at Steve. Steve makes eye contact with him, and waves him over.

He ducks and weaves through the crowd, pointedly ignoring Sunset, and gets to the back table. Finally, a break. 

“I’m guessing that was Sunset?”

“Unfortunately, yes. We should be fine now that she’s seen us together, she’s not into being the other woman.” Jokes, that was something Tony could do. Jokes helped distract him from seeing Sunset again. 

Steve frowns in Sunset’s direction, checks Tony over to make sure that he’s okay, and then leaves for a second to grab drinks for both of them. That’s when the second dose of trouble for the evening comes, in the form of Tiberius Stone sliding into the space where Steve had been, like he belonged there. 

“Not now, Ty.” Tony would like to believe that he has had more than his fair share of Tiberius Stone. 

“Anthony,” he admonishes, the condescending prick, “is that any way to talk to an old friend? Come on, I know there must be some part of you that’s happy to see me.” 

“I don’t know if you know this, but I’m with someone else now, I’m not interested in whatever you’re trying to sell me.” Tony stopped being religious a long time ago, but if anyone is listening, he would like them to know that he’s praying for Tiberius Stone to take a hint. 

Ty, of course, is an idiot, and doesn’t. In fact, it only makes him bolder, as he slides closer to Tony and places a heavy, warm hand on his shoulder, and Jesus, how much has this guy had to drink? There isn’t even any alcohol at the gala, but his breath smells like a frat party. 

Just as he’s trying to subtly slip away from Ty’s firm grip, he hears Steve clear his throat behind them. Tony sends a quick mental  _ thank you _ to whatever benevolent deity is clearly looking out for him. 

“Excuse me, I think you’re in my spot.” 

Tiberius turns to look at Steve, very obviously sizing him up. There’s a sway to the way Ty stands, like his center of gravity is moving, and something must click in his head that this wouldn’t be a fight he’d be able to win.

“Well, I guess I’ll be off then. Always a pleasure to catch up with you, Anthony, but I must be going now,” he says, as he backs away unsteadily and all but runs.

Steve watches him leave, a twitch in his jaw. He sets down his and Tony’s drinks with a bit more force than necessary. 

“He calls you Anthony, huh?”  _ Ooh, someone’s huffy.  _

Tony snorts at Steve’s tone. “Ignore him. Tiberius is an idiot. He’ll embarrass himself, you don’t need to do that for him.” 

They split up again, after they finish their drinks, and move to the last phase of their plan: covering the other half of the room and leaving early. Steve’s watching Tony a bit more closely now, protectively. Tony would be annoyed but if he’s being honest, he appreciates it. He’s feeling more than a little rattled, and at this point just wants to go home and rest--

“Stark,” says a cold, unmistakable voice behind him. 

Well, no rest for the wicked. Tony plasters on his press smile, squares his shoulders, and turns to face Victor Von Doom. 

“Victor, you’re looking handsome.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere,” he replies, and Tony thinks  _ oh, it’s going to be one of  _ those _ conversations. Being the one doing the rejecting is kind of fun, for a change. _

“I hear your little company is working on some applications of the reactor that have quite novel implications, of the nuclear variety?”

_ Or maybe not so much _ . “We’re working on clean energy, not bombs, dear. You couldn’t pay me enough to work on another bomb.”

Victor puts his hand on the small of Tony’s back, pulls him in closer, and says “everyone has a price.”

Or at least, that’s what he thinks Victor would have said, if Steve hadn’t punched him in the face. 

Tonight has been a rough night for Tony. He’s been directly confronted by all three people that he specifically didn’t want to be confronted by. He’s stressed, he’s dealing with a new relationship, he’s always so busy. All of those things are why what he does next should be excused: he starts laughing. 

Steve and Victor are on the floor, grappling with each other. Victor has a fist full of Steve’s hair and is pulling as hard as he can, Steve has a fist cocked back and ready to shatter Victor’s nasal cavity, and they’re being pulled apart by security, and all Tony can do is cackle uncontrollably, until he’s shaking. 

Happy, bless his soul, comes in, Pepper trailing behind him. 

“Boss, are you okay? Let’s get you some air,” says Happy, trying to usher him out to one of the balconies.

“Jesus, Tony, I’m never inviting Von Doom again. I should have known something like this would happen when you highlighted his name on the guestlist and asked for it to be revised.” Pepper’s handing him a few Advil from her bag, she’s always so prepared for things, and he takes them from her to swallow dry. 

Victor, for his part, is screaming in indignation as he holds his now bloodied and bruising nose, something about “Anthony! Could you at least  _ try _ to control your attack dog? Unbelievable,” as he gets shepherded out of the ballroom. 

Steve, however, does not look ashamed at all. Tony recognizes the look in Steve’s eye, it’s his patented “I’m Captain America and I’m proud that I did a good and righteous thing” look. Tony tries to glare, but he’s trying too hard to control his breathing for it to be effective. 

“Come on, sweetheart, let’s go home,” Steve says, the smug bastard, extending his arm once again for Tony to hold onto. 

Tony begrudgingly grabs onto Steve’s arm and leans into Steve’s solid mass as they make their way out of the ballroom and into a waiting limo for Happy to take them back home.

***

Two days later, Steve shows up at Tony’s bedroom door with a tray piled high with food. Tony is only mildly impressed. He quirks an eyebrow up at Steve.

“Are you here to say you’re sorry for nearly causing an international incident because you couldn’t handle someone flirting with me, Steve?”

“...I brought you waffles. They’re homemade.” 

“Steven.”

“They’re gluten-free. And chocolate. I made a crunchy buckwheat topping for them.”

“Steven Grant Rogers.”

“I’m not sorry for punching Victor Von Doom in the face. He kept touching you and he made you uncomfortable. I  _ am _ sorry for embarrassing you. I’ll keep my hands to myself until the event’s over next time.”

Tony sighs fondly. He can’t stay mad at this idiot, and Von Doom  _ was _ making him uncomfortable. This is probably the best he’s going to get out of Steve for now, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t going to make his expectations clear. He takes the tray of food from Steve and leads the both of them to his bed. Steve clearly intended for them to share breakfast together, and he’s not going to take that away from him. 

“Next time, I don’t want any punching, period, you hear me, Mr. Caveman? I’ve told you before, I don’t need you to defend my honor.”

Steve shakes his head. “But what if I  _ want _ to defend your honor?”

Tony… Tony doesn’t have an argument for that. Nobody he’s dated has ever been willing to fight for him before. He pops a bite of Steve’s waffle concoction into his mouth, and it’s incredible. 

“Fine. But just a little defending, verbally only. And only when I tell you that it’s okay.”

Steve breaks into the brightest smile Tony’s ever seen in his life. “Deal.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Well this was a wild ride. I certainly didn't mean for it to be this long (I think it's over twice the length of the last one?), nor did I anticipate writing something else so soon.
> 
> My fic Tumblr is theotherwasdeath if you'd like to follow it! I posted a snippet of this fic to there yesterday. My main blog is ironmanspussy, which is still cursed as hell. 
> 
> The title is inspired by the Knights of the Round Table; Lancelot is the bravest one, but Sir Lamorak was considered the most brutish one.


End file.
